Eyes of the Calculor (66 page)

None but the Avianese had seen a kitewing before, and true to its name it resembled nothing more than a large, double boxkite making a loud droning sound. As it passed along the Avenue people shouted and pointed up, then cheered. The veterans did not stop, although many broke ranks to stare. The Avianese marchers now saluted the leaders on the balcony, Martyne saluted from the kitewing—and a burst of fire pattered out from the northeast tower of the palace.

At first it was taken for a salute, then everyone saw black smoke belch from the kitewing and the note of its compression engine lowered and began to miss. The flyer banked away to starboard over Libris, narrowly missing the great beamflash tower. Cheers turned to screams across Libris Plaza. Dozens of outraged veterans in the crowd opened fire on the palace tower, and Overmayor Lengina ordered the palace guard to seize the place at once. Out in the square the Ghan Lancers fired a volley at those shooting at the tower. The dignitaries and leaders scrambled from the oration balcony of the palace, but Dramoren remained behind, holding up a mirror and flashing a signal across the plaza to Libris.

In the northeast tower the captain of a squad of Reformed Gentheist infiltrators dressed in the uniforms of palace guardsmen held up her

flintlock as two of her men pinned her lieutenant to the wall by his arms.

"Why in the name of all hells did you order that volley?" she screamed in near-hysterical fury.

"Frelle Captain, when I saw that blasphemous abomination flying past I could not help myself—"

She fired, hitting him squarely between the eyes.

"That's what happens to anyone who can't help himself or obey orders!" she bellowed to the others.

From below there was the sound of pounding on a door that was barred from the inside.

"Hurry, get the bombards forward and bring down the beamflash tower!" the captain ordered.

"But Captain, the balcony has not yet—"

"Screw the balcony! Obey me! Now!"

Part of the tower's bombard gallery burst inward as the first of the shots from the Libris ceremonial bombards landed. The captain picked herself up.

"Open fire, bring down the tower," she cried.

Uramoren crouched below the balcony railing, holding up his mirror and signaling to the Libris gunners to keep firing. A bombard shot thudded into the beamflash tower, punching a dent into the heavy stonework, then another clipped a corner and knocked out a shower of stone blocks and fragments.

What do you mean, you've never fired a shot-loaded bombard before?" Lengina demanded of the captain of the southeast palace tower.

"The tower has been purely ceremonial for two hundred years, Frelle Overmayor."

"Pick up one of those balls, push it into a bombard, and fire!" shouted Lengina, pointing at the northeast tower.

"I don't know how to aim!"

"There's a plate on the mounting," suggested one of the bombard crew.

The captain dropped to his knees. " 'Congratulations, you have just purchased a Talini Brothers bombard . . . nine-inch balls . . . iron or lead-iron composite—' "

"Just point it at the tower!" said Lengina.

"—only certified bombardiers with a scroll from the Mayoral Commissioner of Armaments—"

"Point and fire!" shrieked Lengina. "At this range you cannot miss!"

The bombard was fired. It flew off its mounting with a fume-choked thunderclap, crashed into the wall behind it, and came to rest on its side in a cloud of sulfurous smoke and dust.

■ it from the side by the shot from the southeast tower, the roof of the bombard gallery of the northeast tower collapsed. Several tons of stonework and bricks crushed the Reformed Gentheist bombardiers, although the musketeers in the stairwell below survived.

Fighting was still raging down in Libris Plaza as Dramoren straightened. He watched guardsmen smash down the northeast tower's door with an improvised battering ram. There was a burst of gunfire as the guards streamed in.

"Dramoren!"

He could see a figure in white robes waving to him from a bombard arch in the southeast tower. Dramoren inserted his foot into a small niche in the stonework, felt for a lever, and flicked it up. What a bonus, no need to feign a bomb scare to evacuate the balcony, he thought.

"And as Martyne Camderine once said to Airlord Samondel Leover, I love you," Dramoren whispered to the distant figure of Lengina. He pressed the hidden lever down with his foot.

The blast that followed gouged out the center of the entire east wall of the palace, demolishing the oration balcony and sending a

EYES OF THE CAICULOR 539

cloud of dust and smoke billowing out across the plaza where Ghan lancers still battled Rochestrian veterans.

IVIartyne managed to nurse his kitewing out over the lake before the damaged compression engine seized. He skimmed the glassy water, lost speed, then dropped heavily to the surface. Martyne unstrapped himself, flung off his jacket and boots, and jumped. The water had a pronounced mid-autumn chill, but at least nobody shot at him as he waded ashore.

Vorion watched the fighting from the roof of Libris, then returned to the Highliber's study and stepped through the leadlight window. He picked up a note written by Dramoren and began reading.

I, Franzas Dramoren, Highliber of Libris, do offer my death and the deaths of the heretical heads of state to the Deity so that Prophet Jemli may be free to lead the righteous of the Rochestrian Commonwealth into the light of salvation. Death to all heretics, death to aviad abominations, a curse upon Mirrorsun and all fueled engines.

Vorion crumpled the poorpaper and dropped it into the fire. "No, my Highliber, that will never do," he said as he sat down to compose his own note.

I, Vorion Poros, lackey to the Highliber Dramoren, do affirm that I have betrayed my Highliber, the Dragon Librarian Service, the Overmayor, and the Rochestrian Commonwealth in the name of the Deity and for the greater glory of the Word, and with the help of the blessed faithful of the Woomeran Confederation. My only regret is that some demon or abomination drove the mayors from the balcony before my bomb exploded, and that the great beamflash tower did not fall to

the cannons of the righteous. All power and glory to the Word, long life to Jemli the Prophet.

Vorion signed his name, dripped wax beside the signature, and pressed his seal into it. His hands were shaking almost beyond control as he drew his small, ceremonial flintlock. He pressed the barrel hard against his temple to make sure that he could not miss.

You know there is no other way, I must do this to clear the Highliber's name, he prayed as he squeezed his eyes shut. God forgive me, God forgive me —

With all the shooting that was going on outside, nobody paid any heed to yet one more muffled shot.

WILD OF THE MIRROR

Peterborough, the Woomeran Confederation

Jemli was conducting her afternoon's meditation when she noticed that a girl had entered her chambers, a girl with the coldest expression that she had ever seen. She stood with her arms folded and stared unblinking at Jemli, who was seated on a huge, embroidered cushion. There was something familiar about her, something about her manner, attitude, bearing, expression, and even the smirk on her lips.

Unfolding her arms, the intruder now walked across to a wall, her boots making no sound at all on the flagstones. She pressed a panel without taking her eyes from Jemli. The panel clicked softly. The intruder slid it aside, reached into the recess behind it, drew out a Morelac, then closed the panel.

"Mine, I believe," said the intruder in educated Austaric that retained a slight Rutherglen accent.

The words had the impact of a snakebite upon Jemli.

"Guards!" she called, and immediately the doors at the end of her meditation chamber were flung open. Two guards entered, their muskets held ready.

"Guards, take her away from me," Jemli called fearfully.

One of the guards crossed the room and stood beside the intruder.

"Come, you are in trouble beyond telling," said the guard, reaching out to seize her.

His hand passed right through her arm. The guard cried out, recoiling back and firing his flintlock. The ball passed through the intruder, ricocheting from a stone column and lodging in a panel. The intruder held up the Morelac twin barrel.

"I shall go," said the intruder to the guard, then she turned back to Jemli. "For now."

She walked silently across to a stone wall and stepped straight through. Both guards exchanged glances with Jemli.

"It is a vision, sent by a demon to shake our faith," she said quickly. "Go, go. My solitude is my strength."

When the guards were gone again Jemli locked the double doors behind them and made straight for the secret panel where the Morelac that had once belonged to Lemorel Milderellen was concealed. She pressed the panel. It clicked. She slid the panel aside. The space behind it contained a pistol rack, but no pistol. Jemli reached in and picked up the rack, she held it up to the light, turned it before her eyes. Suddenly she screamed, dropping the rack as she fainted. This time the doors had to be smashed open by the guards. They found Jemli lying on the ground, an open panel in the wall and the gunrack beside her. A stretcher, medician, and nurses were sent for at once and Jemli was carried out, surrounded by a dozen men and women.

Only when the room was empty did Velesti step from behind a screen, wearing a guard's uniform and holding the missing Morelac in her hand. She slipped it into her belt and buttoned her coat over it. An image of a guard with Zarvora's face materialized in the air before her, floating a foot above the floor.

"Thank you for your help, Frelle Mirrorsun," said Velesti. "Now, would you escort me through the palace, or must I fight my way along?"

"That would spoil the illusion, Frelle Disore. And after all my hard work with those illusions, too."

"And mine."

Jemli lay resting in her bed, now surrounded by eight guards, two medicians, three Reformed Gentheist priests, and five of her personal maids.

"I had a vision, the Invincible Lemorel appeared to me," she was telling the priests. "She held up her favorite pistol, the one our beloved papa gave to her. She said that she had returned to be sure that I was making no mistakes. I did not recognize her at first, it has been so long since her death. I called the guards, and it was only when one put his hand through her that I realized who was before me. She said she would go, I think she was satisfied."

Jemli realized that nobody was watching her anymore, they were looking at a woman who was standing to the right of the bed with her arms folded . . . and halfway through the wall. Jemli screamed and sat up.

"I have been talking to Glasken, we dead have a lot of time to chat," said the image. "He was wondering if it was you who arranged Mayor Bouros's murder. He was not dead then, so he could not watch you as closely."

Jemli's mouth hung open and her jaw was trembling, but she did not reply.

"I see, I hear," said the guard on her right, gesturing to the wall and phantom. "I cannot stand it."

He began to back toward the door. Most of the others began to follow.

"No! Don't leave me!" shrieked Jemli.

They stopped, but did not return to where they had been.

"We do know it was you who denounced Glasken and sent the militia into the underground University," continued the image of Lemorel softly.

"Stop it!" shouted Jemli. "Lies!"

"Denkar said he died there, with all the other engineers. Strange, I only knew Denkar as FUNCTION 9 while he was alive. He was a component in the original Calculor."

Jemli looked from the image to her guards and other staff.

"A demon, here to baffle and confuse us with lies," she assured them. "We must face it together. None of it is true."

"Oh, but your last husband, the Overmayor, told us. He was rather cross that you killed him, by the way. Cross with himself, that is, for not bothering to have you removed earlier."

"In the name of the Deity, begone!" shouted Jemli, standing up on the bed and gesturing at the image with the heel of her hand.

It was an imposing sight. With the extra height of the bed her head was eight feet from the ground. The image of Lemorel was not moved, and did not move.

"The Deity is at my right shoulder!" shrieked Jemli. "The Deity will cast you back into hell!"

The image unfolded its arms and spread its hands, looking around.

"Here I am, waiting to be cast," it said, then folded its arms again and glared at Jemli. "The dead are watching you, Jemli Mild-erellen. Fart in your bedchamber and we hear it. Preach abominations, death, and hellfire to a hundred thousand of your faithful, and we hear it. Bomb the Rochestrian Overmayor's palace balcony during the ANZAC parade in Rochester and we hear it all the way from here."

"Get out!" Jemli now snapped at her staff and guards. "It's trying to divide us by lies laced with truth. I must face it alone."

Laced with truthl thought everyone else in the room.

The image watched the others hurry out. The duty captain of the guards pulled the door shut behind him and looked around. All the others had already hurried off, including his fellow guards. Only a single guard remained at her post, by the double doors at the end of the corridor. She saluted as Jemli's duty captain approached.

"Watch that door, but do not approach it," he ordered. "If the Enlightened One calls out or screams, send for her priests."

Velesti nodded. The captain opened the left door, then stopped again.

"She is battling a demon," he whispered. "I saw it."

Velesti nodded again, but did not allow herself a smile until the

door had clicked shut behind him. The duty captain thought for a moment how similar to Lemorel's image the guard's face had been, but did not hold the thought. He no longer had much faith in what his eyes told him.

Back in Jemli's room the image of Lemorel sauntered clear of the wall. Jemli watched, still standing on the bed.

"The bombing of the palace was about a minute ago, by the way, and congratulations, your agents managed to kill Highliber Franzas Dramoren and shoot down one Avianese kitewing. Unfortunately all the other leaders survived, and are very, very angry. The great beamflash tower of Libris survived as well, and is currently transmitting a declaration of war on Woomera to the border forts and garrisons."